


til our compass stands still

by rlbcaged



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Chiyoh to the rescue, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mute!Hannibal Lecter, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Will Graham Knows, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, i miss them so much, sorry this is kinda boring, they're so in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:55:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23979343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rlbcaged/pseuds/rlbcaged
Summary: “He is injured, like you. His leg is severely broken, he has a few cracked ribs, a concussion, and a gunshot wound. He may not be the Hannibal you are expecting. When I first met him, he was in a similar state and if he wakes as he did all those years ago, he will not be your Hannibal for a while.”Will didn’t understand why that meant he couldn’t see Hannibal yet, but he understood one thing with an absolute, sudden clarity.“In whatever form he may be, he will always be my Hannibal.”- In which Hannibal and Will are changed after the fall, in many different ways than they expected.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 175





	til our compass stands still

**Author's Note:**

> look at me, my first hannibal fic :')
> 
> the title is from the song "West" by Sleeping At Last
> 
> sorry if this is kinda slow, i've just had this vague idea of mute!hannibal for a while but i just wasn't sure where to go with it so this is kind of a test
> 
> i don't own the show Hannibal or any of the characters!

Will Graham understands things. It’s what he does, what he’s always been good at. Given time, there’s never been something he couldn’t figure out the truth of. Will understood why Hannibal changed him and he understood why he, in turn, changed Hannibal. He finally has a clear understanding of himself, and he thought, of Hannibal as well. Will understood why he dragged them off the cliff. One last chance for them to be wiped off the chessboard, for fate to take he and Hannibal out of the game once and for all. Or not.

Will surfaced from the icy waves with more wounds than he cared to think about, desperately clinging to Hannibal’s unmoving body with numb limbs. He couldn’t feel any part of himself, adrenaline coursing forcefully through his veins as he spat water from his lungs, unconsciously kicking his legs to support their weight as he sought out a place to go. Looking back on it, Will does not understand how he managed to get them to safety.

Two days later, Will awoke in soft, warm sheets. Straining his ears, he could hear the gentle rustle of waves sloshing against the side of the boat.

The boat. The fall. Chiyoh pulling them from the water. _Hannibal._ Will’s eyes shot open and he quickly sat up, gasping for air as his entire body seized in pain. His vision greyed as gentle hands eased him down to lay back on the bed. He turned his head and promptly vomited over the side of the bed.

“ _Will_ ,” came a quiet, exasperated sigh from his left, “ _can you hear me?_ ”

Will slowly cracked open one eye to find Chiyoh’s worried face peering over his prone form. How odd, he thought, Chiyoh worrying for him. She looked into his open eye for a moment before slowly raising a cup of water to his dry, cracked lips. As he sought out the straw, she spoke, “Don’t open your mouth too much, you’ll pull your stitches.”

He glared at her without much heat, it’s hard to look intimidating with half of your face bandaged and a straw in your mouth.

“Before you ask, he’s asleep in the other bedroom. You need to know a few things before you see can see him.”

Will’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the massive knot that had formed in his stomach from his lack of knowledge about Hannibal’s whereabouts loosened a fraction. At least he was alive. Will desperately needed to be with him. It felt like fire clawing it’s way up his trachea as he choked out a single syllable,

“What?”

Chiyoh set the cup down on the bedside table and peeled the blanket down off of his shoulder. For a long, tense moment she just checked over his wounds. Will stared at her while she stared at his bandaged shoulder. The waves rocked the boat a little.

“He,” she broke the silence, voice cracking in the slightest. Will put his pinky finger against her thigh, the closest he could reach in his current state. A tiny smile graced her lips. She tried again. 

“He is injured, like you. His leg is severely broken, he has a few cracked ribs, a concussion, and a gunshot wound. He may not be the Hannibal you are expecting. When I first met him, he was in a similar state and if he wakes as he did all those years ago, he will not be your Hannibal for a while.”

Will didn’t understand why that meant he couldn’t see Hannibal yet, but he understood one thing with an absolute, sudden clarity.

“In whatever form he may be, he will always be my Hannibal.”

At that, Chiyoh finally looked at him again. Really and truly looked. Her face softened, just a bit, and she nodded.

“I understand that now.”

She reached for something above his head, and then Will’s world faded to black again.

The next time he awoke, he felt a warmth near his left leg. His eyes opened significantly easier than the last time to find Chiyoh sitting calmly at the foot of the bed.

“You drugged me.“

“You’re welcome,” one corner of her mouth quirked up. It looked strained, to Will. “It’s been three days. You should try to walk today.”

He didn’t care about walking, not now. “Where’s Hannibal?”

Her smirk dropped. “He still has not woken up.” Will sat up, that too was easier this time.

“Take me to him.”

Four days after that, as Will sat beside Hannibal’s bed, the once strong and seemly unbreakable psychiatrist still had not moved.

Will was able to get up and move around, despite the aches of his injuries, and yet Hannibal had not so much as rolled over. He worried to no end, pacing and annoying Chiyoh with his questions.

“Will, shut the fuck up. He took the brunt of your fall and his body needs time. He is breathing, he is healing, and he will be okay.”

Will still wasn’t sure how much of that was for his sake or her own. On night twelve of their time upon the wretched boat, Will had fallen asleep curled around Hannibal’s still form. A painful ball of ache had settled behind his ribs, _he missed him_. Sudden movement jerked Will out of his uneasy slumber, and his eyes opened to find not Chiyoh beside him, but a terrified Hannibal with his back hunched and mouth open in a silent scream.

“Hannibal! HANNIBAL!” Nothing worked. Hannibal began thrashing in the bed, arms flailing and legs kicking. Will could see flashes of red seeping beneath his bandaged torso. The door slammed open, revealing Chiyoh, whose face was a mask of fear. Her hands landed roughly on Hannibal’s shoulders and she began whispering in a language Will could not understand. He just looked on, terrified, narrowly avoiding Hannibal’s rapidly moving legs. Suddenly, he stopped, as if entranced by Chiyoh’s soft words. Will reached a tentative hand out to lay on top of Hannibal’s as the man’s frightening eyes finally opened.

A month later found them in a safe house off the shore of Cuba. At the moment, Will was resting with his legs intertwined with Hannibal’s and his head on the man’s chest. A soft tap to his curls had him glancing up to see Hannibal looking softly down at him.

“Good morning,” Will murmured, “how are you feeling?” Hannibal smiled, gently nodding his head.

“Me too,” he grinned back.

Hannibal still hadn’t uttered a sound, not even when nightmares plagued him. Chiyoh had explained to Will that this is what she feared. What she told him that first time on the boat, that she worried he would wake up the same as he did when he was a child, had come to fruition. Hannibal’s mind may work differently than others, but his primal reactions still were the same as all humans. Extensive trauma to himself and those he loved placed a sort of block in his mind. It’s not that he wouldn’t speak, but that he genuinely _couldn’t_. Will didn’t mind. He meant what he told Chiyoh that day, that any Hannibal would always be his Hannibal. He would be there when, or if, that block lifted. For better or worse.

They killed a dragon together and they had each other completely now, and that was all that mattered.


End file.
